


fake it till you make it

by galacticmint



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-11-02 09:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20697929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticmint/pseuds/galacticmint
Summary: When a stranger falls in love with Linhardt, Linhardt concocts a lie about he and Caspar's relationship to put him off. Unfortunately, they aren't actually dating, but they're going to have to keep up the facade for just a little bit longer. Set after the game during their ending.





	1. Chapter 1

When they were children, Caspar had always loved stories about knights and wandering heroes, stories about brave souls who traveled the land, seeking out injustice and putting an end to wrongdoing. He’d often beg Linhardt to act them out with him, sometimes casting his friend as the villain, sometimes as a helpless victim, but even more often as his sleepy but faithful sidekick. If pressed, he probably would have said that was his dream, to travel and help people as much as he could. Well, now he was living that dream, and some days it was pretty neat! They’d freed a small town from the clutches of a very small gang of bandits that were threatening them, and that had been extremely cool. He’d taken out all three of them by himself, and had ended up with only minor wounds for Linhardt to patch up and scold him over. That, of course, was the other best part of it all; Linhardt was here with him every step of the way. His baffling, talented, lazy-as-sin friend. No inheritance to worry about, no family reputation, and of course the war was over too. It really was basically perfect. 

He was still riding the high from that victory a little bit when they hit the next town, and the fact that there wasn’t much hero business to do here didn’t dampen his mood much at all. When he asked, the shopkeeper he’d accosted with his excited questioning cocked his head to the side, thinking it over. He was a jagged old man, all knobbly elbows and bristly beard. His beard stuck out in tufts at all angles, and it was so impressive that it kind of made Caspar wonder if he should grow a beard? He’d never tried before. He’d ask Linhardt later if he thought it’d look good.

“Well,” the shopkeeper said, “the only bad thing that’s happened lately is my assistant got kicked in the head real bad by a horse this morning. He’s still out, so I’m working all by myself today.”

“That’s awesome!” Caspar said, and both the shopkeeper and Linhardt looked at him like he was nuts. He was used to getting that look from Linhardt, but geez! You’d think the stranger would at least give him a chance to make his pitch! “My friend here is real good at healing magic,” he added, gesturing towards Linhardt, who’s expression changed from skeptical to annoyed. 

The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up. “Is that right? Well, let me get you directions to Erik’s house, I’m sure his folks’ll pay you a pretty penny if you can help him.” He scurried to the back room to get paper and pen, ignoring Caspar’s splutters that money wasn’t why they were doing this, definitely not, it was about honor you see. Although actually, a little more coin was welcome. Linhardt liked staying in inns with cushy beds when possible, and Caspar ate a lot, so they went through it pretty fast. Who knew living like a normal person was so expensive!

“We’re just putting my abilities up for market without asking, I see,” Linhardt drawled, leaning against one of the long shelves of goods. It was nearing noon, so he knew Linhardt would probably want to stop to nap soon. They hadn’t even eaten yet, and he was already starting to show the signs, in his long drawn out blinking and slightly husky voice. 

Caspar laughed, and resisted the urge to reach out and pat his head or pinch his cheeks. “What are you gonna do, say no? Last town was my turn to shine. This time it’s yours.”

Linhardt turned his head away and mumbled something about having no desire to shine, actually, but the shopkeeper was back, a scrap of paper in his hand covered in neat handwriting. Caspar snatched it excitedly, and then presented it to Linhardt with a flourish, which earned him a fond snort at least. Caspar was still glowing from that as the two said their goodbyes to the shopkeeper and followed the directions through the tangle of small streets to a small home a few minutes walk away.

They knocked on the door, and it was was opened by a white-faced woman, expression wound tight with worry. When they (well, Caspar really) explained their intent and relevant talents, she ushered them inside and led them through the small home. They’d been in rural inns aplenty since beginning their travels a few months ago, but it wasn’t often that Caspar had been in a commoner’s home, so he glanced around curiously as they walked through. It was clean, although wear showed in the scratches in the walls and furniture that had been fixed rather than replaced. That being said, he saw several books, and a small desk in one corner, so it seemed the people here were probably of some learned profession. Merchants, maybe, or perhaps one of the household worked as a clerk or a secretary? He’d ask Linhardt, after they left. He’d probably already figured everything out about the house’s occupants, if he was awake enough to be paying attention.

She led them to a small bedroom in the rear of the house, which was slightly messier, although Caspar couldn’t tell if that’s how it was usually kept or if it had been thrown into disarray in the panic after its resident’s sudden injury that morning. There was a small wooden bed pushed into one corner, and on top of the fading quilt lay a young man who looked to be about their age. He had a strong, broad shouldered build, and a blood stained bandage wrapped around his head. There was blood in his hair, too, which was a startling cornsilk yellow, and his face was pale except for heavy bruising that ran down one side of his face and dark shadows under his eyes. 

Caspar glanced at Linhardt and saw the way his face twisted like he’d smelled something bad.

“You okay?” he asked, once the woman had departed, saying she’d give them some space to work. He placed a hand on Linhardt’s back, palm flat, just to support him if he got light headed as he sometimes did around sights of blood. 

Linhardt snorted, his eyes on the unconscious young man. “Please,” he said, “I saw much worse than this during the war.” Still, he leaned into Caspar’s hand for one almost imperceptible moment before crossing to the bedside. Caspar folded his arms and watched him as he studied the patient intently. Linhardt’s concentrating face was really pretty, he thought to himself. The way his long hair fell over his shoulders was really pretty too. Honestly, most things about Linhardt were pretty one way or another, and it only seemed to grow more true as their days together went by, one by one. It was possible that Caspar had sort of a problem.

Linhardt exhaled after a moment, settling down in a chair placed conveniently at the head of the bed. He lifted one hand to press long fingers to the man’s temple, the pads of his fingers avoiding contact with the bloodstains as much as possible. “I think there may be some fluid build up,” he said, although Caspar had no idea how he could tell. It was maybe a magic thing? “This man is fairly lucky we were passing through, if there are no proper healers in this village.” 

Caspar imagined that if there were, they’d already have done what they could, so it was really up to Linhardt at this point.

He watched as Linhardt’s eyes fell closed, and the familiar glow of healing magic shone between his fingers, before ebbing away into the bandage and the man’s skin. The stranger-- Erik, the shopkeeper had called him?-- stirred, and then opened wide brown eyes. He stared up at Linhardt, mouth opening, and then shutting.

“Goddess?” he stammered after a moment, and Linhardt smirked while Caspar fought not to laugh. 

“No such luck. Just an ordinary magic user that happened to be passing through,” Linhardt told him drily.

Erik flushed, and seemed for the first time to notice his surroundings, glancing around the room and at Caspar before his eyes settled on Linhardt again. “Ah… my apologies,” he stuttered. “You were so beautiful but I thought-- well-- it’s you I can thank for saving me?” Linhardt raised his eyebrows at that-- well, specifically at being called beautiful, it seemed-- and nodded. Caspar felt a complicated mix of emotions roil in his stomach. On one hand he felt a glow of pride; Linhardt deserved for people to recognize his beauty! On the other hand, this guy had known him for what, all of three seconds? Calling him beautiful and comparing him to the goddess seemed awfully forward, all things considered. Whatever that second emotion was only grew as Erik took Linhardt’s hand in both of his. 

“Pray tell me, gentle angel, what is your name?” Erik pleaded, adoration clear on his face. 

Caspar knew Linhardt’s expression well-- it was the ‘I want to roll my eyes at you, but I’ve been told it’s rude, and you haven’t annoyed me enough yet to override that’ expression. His mouth thinned into a tight line, and then he replied, “Call me Linhardt. This is my traveling companion, Caspar.” He gestured in Caspar’s direction with his free hand, and Erik barely spared him a glance before turning back to stare up at Linhardt again. It was a little weird being only introduced by his first name, but neither of them were using their family names, since they’d renounced them a few months ago. They should probably pick new ones at some point. 

“Linhardt,” Eric was saying breathlessly, as if it was the most beautiful word he’d ever heard in his entire life. “I can’t thank you enough! What time is it? My mother and I will prepare a meal for you.”

“Ah,” Linhardt said, and again Caspar recognized his expression, this time as the one he wore when he was about to try to wriggle out of something, but Eric cut him off.

“Please! I was briefly conscious before, when the doctor was here, I know I might have died if not for you. I don’t have much money to repay you, so this is all I can do.” He sprang to his feet, and Caspar got an unpleasant surprise as he realized that Erik was much taller than him, and may even be taller than Linhardt! Okay, that was super unfair. 

Erik rushed from the room, and there was a long drawn out silence. 

“Perhaps we can go out the window,” Linhardt said, giving it a longing look. Caspar scowled.

“What’s with this guy! He’s way too forward! The way he talks reminds me of Ferdinand, too.” It annoyed him way more than when Ferdinand talked, though. Ferdinand was basically fine, once you got past the first three layers of his personality or whatever.

Linhardt shot him a considering look, as if surprised by his outburst. “No, it’s different. Ferdinand speaks that way because he doesn’t know any better. Our patient is… Well, he’s trying to sound fancy, I suppose.”

“‘Cause he’s got a crush on you,” Caspar grumbled.

“Oh, that’s not uncommon,” Linhardt replied, shrugging. “It’s a known phenomenon-- it’s even referred to, ironically, as reverse St. Cethleann effect.”

“Reverse?” Caspar asked, confused.

“Well, regular St. Cethleann effect is when the healer falls for their patient due to the emotions associated with caring for someone,” Linhardt said, adding, “It’s said St. Cethleann had quite the habit of falling for the ordinary folk in her care.”

“Uh… does that really happen?” Caspar frowned, not sure he really liked the idea. 

“Perhaps over time,” Linhardt told him, one side of his mouth quirking up like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. Then he said, “I’ve experienced the reversed version a few times, though. Patients mistake gratitude and relief at being alive for attraction. He’ll forget about it within the week.”

“Wait, you’ve seen this happen before?” Caspar stared at him, scandalized. “Why didn’t I know about it?” 

Linhardt threw him an odd look. “Why would you? It generally came up when caring for the injured after battle. In all cases, once the patient no longer needed care, they forgot about their feelings. I don’t think it’s all that surprising that you weren’t there the few times it occurred.”

Caspar’s jaw worked, but he didn’t have a good answer to that. It just felt weird to know that people were falling in love with Linhardt all over the place! “So you never like, y’know. Liked any of them back?” he asked, and he wasn’t proud of how strangled his voice came out.

Linhardt looked surprised. “No, I--” he started, but was cut off when Erik re-entered the room, beaming from ear to ear. He’d cleaned up a bit; the bandage was gone, showing just bruising on his temple now, and all the blood on his face and hair had been washed off. He was, unfortunately, actually pretty good looking. Caspar wondered sourly if he was Linhardt’s type.

“Please, come join us for lunch,” he said, and took Linhardt’s arm to lead him from the room. Caspar trailed after. Usually he was pretty excited by the prospect of food, especially free food when they were on the road, but…

At least Erik’s mom was nice. While Erik spent the whole meal fawning over Linhardt and didn’t say a word to Caspar, she made sure Caspar’s plate was full and thanked them both for saving her son. It kind of made Caspar miss his own mom, a bit, who’d died when he was just a kid. He spent the first half of the meal talking to Eric’s mom and learned her name was Lydia, her husband was a weaver, and she balanced books for various local businesses.

“So, where are you headed next?” Erik asked eventually, gazing into Linhardt’s eyes, which was fairly impressive considering Linhardt kept giving Caspar these long-suffering looks across the table.

“North, probably,” Caspar said, although honestly they hadn’t really discussed it in depth. They’d just been going that direction already, and he knew he wanted to get out of this town as soon as possible.

“North!” Erik exclaimed, and his mother also looked surprised. “The forest north of here is treacherous. Let me repay you by accompanying you through it; I’ve lived here all my life and I know the way better than most.”

“I’m sure we’ll make it through eventually,” Linhardt said with a yawn. Caspar wondered if he wanted to escape the conversation as much as he did.

“No, you don’t understand,” Erik’s mother said. “Er, not to be rude, because I’m sure you’re both seasoned travelers, but much of the land is boggy and unstable. There’s a path through, but only locals know it.”

Linhardt pressed his lips together, clearly annoyed, but didn’t say anything. “Maybe you could draw us a map?” Caspar suggested.

Erik shook his head. “I’d feel much more comfortable if I could come with you. You saved my life; let me repay you.”

“Fine,” Linhardt snapped, although with his voice slow with exhaustion, Caspar wondered if the other two heard the frustration in it. “You’re welcome to accompany myself and my lover through the forest.”

Everything seemed to slow down for a moment.

“Huh?” Caspar said, right as Erik said,

“Him?!”

“That’s right,” Linhardt said, cushioning his chin on his hand and looking at Erik, then Caspar, and then back again. “Sorry. Did I forget to mention the nature of our relationship? Well, we are so used to having to hide our love. We ran away so that we could be together, you see.” There was a smug little smile on his face, and Caspar couldn’t breathe. “If that changes your desire to see us through the forest, I fully understand.”

Oh! Caspar’s eyes went wide. They were playing pretend! He’d always played with Linhardt, so he knew how to do this. “Yeah!” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. He felt like he should add something more, to really sell it, but he didn’t know what to say. What did someone say, when they were dating their childhood friend they’d run away with in order to be together?

Erik’s face was a dark red color. “Oh… I… this… this changes nothing! I still want to thank you for saving me.”

“Oh.” Linhardt’s face fell. It seemed he really thought that would work. “Well, I grow tired from overusing my magic. I’ll consider your offer, but I must go to the inn to rest.” he got to his feet, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and Caspar jumped up to run to his side and steady him. As he wrapped an arm around Linhardt’s waist, he wondered if they really looked like a couple. Linhardt leaned into him, and Caspar felt himself grin at the way Erik looked at them. It might be just pretend, but the fact was that they were good enough friends that Linhardt felt comfortable doing this stuff with him, and that was something at least.

“Of course, please rest. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning outside the inn,” Erik told them, inclining his head.

As they left the home after being thanked again, Linhardt let out a long sigh that tickled Caspar’s cheek.

“I really am tired. I wasn’t just saying that to get away,” he said, and Caspar laughed.

“I know! You’re always tired.” he squeezed his arm around Linhardt’s waist, a bubble of affection rising in his chest.

“About the other thing…” Linhardt said, and Caspar glanced at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted to thank you for playing along. We’ll just have to keep it up until we part ways with Erik. I don’t want to know how tiresome a travelling companion he’ll be if he finds out we lied.”

“Of course!” Caspar said, “I’ll be a really good fake boyfriend, don’t worry!”

“I’m not worried about that,” Linhardt told him, as they entered the inn. “One room,” he said to the man working behind the counter.

The man eyed the two of them, Linhardt still leaning on Caspar’s shoulder and Caspar’s arm around his waist. “Need more than one bed?” he asked.

“What? Oh, I suppose not,” Linhardt replied, shrugging, and Caspar felt a jolt shoot through him. It made sense, that to keep up the facade they’d have to share a bed, but… maybe keeping up the charade would be a little more difficult than he thought!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up! Chapter 3 may take a few more days, so please be patient with me!

“Let’s go over it again,” Caspar said, “I’m not sure I got it.”

“Ughhh,” Linhardt replied, voice muffled through the pillow he was currently trying to burrow into. “It’s not that complicated.”

Caspar frowned. He’d let Linhardt sleep for a few hours, going down to the market to stock up on some supplies and then exploring the town, before coming back up to their room at the inn to wake him. Linhardt didn’t much like the idea of being woken, though, and was still sprawled on the bed, while Caspar sat on the edge of it.

“Just tell me again what our backstory is,” Caspar pleaded, and Linhardt rolled onto his back to affix him with a sullen stare, hair falling into his face.

“Fine, okay,” he said, reaching up to push his hair back. “We’re a couple of nobles, we met when we were young and were friends for ages--”

“That part’s true,” Caspar said helpfully. 

“I know that part’s true,” Linhardt replied, “a lie is easier to believe if it’s partially true. Anyway, we reunited during the war, fell madly in love, and when our fathers forbade our union we ran away together. Bam. Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy!” Caspar repeated with ringing conviction. When Linhardt put it that way it made it seem so reasonable, almost like that’s what could have happened.

“I think if we stay close to our usual level of physical contact as well as sharing a bedroll it should be alright. How do you feel about pet names?” He added that last question after a moment, glancing sharply at Caspar.

“Huh? Like what?” 

Linhardt lifted his hands to count on his fingers. “Like baby. Or cutie. Or sweetheart.”

“Oh, wow. Um.” Caspar could feel his face turning red.

“Honey?” 

“That’s way too weird!” Hearing those words come from Linhardt’s mouth was one thing, but the idea of Linhardt calling him something like that… Caspar couldn’t handle it at all.

“Goodness, there’s no need to shout,” Linhardt said, lowering his hands and staring at him reproachfully. “...Darling?”

Caspar yelped and threw a pillow at him as Linhardt dissolved into chuckles.

“Careful! You’ll get us kicked out for yelling like that,” Linhardt told him, but although Caspar tensed up with dread and anticipation, he didn’t try to call him a pet name again. “Did you eat while I was sleeping?”

Caspar seized on the subject change with relief. “No! I thought I’d come wake you up. Wanna go get something?”

They spent the next few minutes hashing out dinner plans, the difficulties of tomorrow almost forgotten. 

…  
He was reminded of those difficulties when, the next morning, he dragged Linhardt out of bed and down the stairs, Linhardt whining and wheedling for Caspar to let him go back to sleep. They reached the mostly deserted courtyard of the inn, and Linhardt sighed and draped his arms around Caspar’s shoulders, leaning against him. Caspar felt his face go hot, and it only got worse when Linhardt’s breath brushed his ear.

“He’s here,” Linhardt warned him under his breath, and then nuzzled into his neck like he intended to stay there. Caspar gasped for air, unsure if he should put his arms around him or what. 

“C’mon,” he blurted, finally settling for poking Linhardt in the ribs. “We gotta go!” He looked around the courtyard for Erik, finally seeing him standing by the entrance. “Sorry about this,” he said to him with an apologetic grimace, “He’s always like this in the morning.”

Well, usually with less… neck nuzzling, but the whining and drowsiness was certainly the same.

“...Don’t worry about it,” Erik replied, watching the two of them with an odd expression. “Can he ride a horse like that?”

“Um, sort of,” Caspar said. “It’s usually just better if he rides with me, though! He’s fallen off before. D’you have a horse to ride?” If not, he could offer him Linhardt’s. Often in the mornings (or at other times when Linhardt became drowsy) Linhardt would sit behind him and hold onto him to nap a little, and Caspar would lead Linhardt’s vacated horse by the reins. In the end that’s what they settled on; Erik said it made more sense for him to make his way back on foot, as he knew shortcuts that were too treacherous for a horse to cross, so he’d drop the two of them and their two horses off once they made it through the forest.

Caspar wondered if Erik thought this meant that Linhardt might, at some point, share a horse with him, but having seen Linhardt’s frustration with him and heard his plans last night, he didn’t think that was very likely. Caspar hauled Linhardt up onto his horse, and when he climbed up as well, he was unsurprised by the feeling of Linhardt’s arms circling around his middle and his head coming to rest on his shoulder. The warmth was welcome in the crisp morning air. 

The three of them set off, their horses picking their way along the path for about an hour or so as the darkness of the woods loomed on the horizon. Then Erik stopped his horse and pointed towards the treeline. “Alright, we’ll enter over here. It’s off the main path a bit, but the main path stops midway in, and people always try to make their own way from there and get lost, so this is safer.”

Fair enough. Caspar followed his lead into the shadow of the trees. 

The silence was starting to feel a little awkward. Caspar was used to travelling in silence while Linhardt napped, of course, but Linhardt was basically the only person he was capable of achieving comfortable silence with. That was mostly because they’d known each other for so long that they’d basically already talked about everything, and anything new that came up, Caspar knew Linhardt would still be there the next day so he could tell him about it.

“So,” he said, and Erik turned to look at him. Caspar realized he hadn’t yet figured out what he wanted to say and frowned, looking down. Ugh, he had to say something! “So, I guess you’re not scared of horses now?”

Erik stared at him, and Caspar floundered, continuing, “I mean-- I heard you got kicked by a horse, but now you’re riding a horse, so that’s good, right? Isn’t there a saying about that? Getting back on the horse after you fall?”

“I wasn’t riding the horse when it kicked me,” Erik replied after a moment. “A traveler paid me to take care of his mount and the horse spooked when I was cleaning out its hooves. It just happened to be a freak accident; I’m pretty good with animals, usually.” His voice seemed flatter than before, less like he was trying to sound fancy. Maybe because Linhardt still seemed to be sleeping?

“Oh,” Caspar said, and he was going to try to say more when Erik shot the two of them a considering look.

“Is he like this all the time?” he asked, gesturing to Linhardt’s slumbering form. Caspar felt his arms tighten slightly. Ah, so Linhardt was awake. Just avoiding conversation, maybe?

“Haha, yeah,” he replied, “He’s a really sleepy guy. Gotta get those fifteen hours or whatever.” He gave Linhardt’s arms a pat where they were folded around his waist. 

“I see… Seems like adventuring’s an odd choice for such a… delicate individual.” Oh no. There was a warmth in his voice, an affection, and Caspar realized with a start that Erik had not given up on Linhardt. Ughhh, what a pain.

“Oh, I just kinda dragged him along,” he heard himself saying, and then realized that didn’t fit the backstory that had been drilled into him the night before. “Um! Out of love, obviously. We’re extremely in love.”

Even to his ears that sounded fake. Erik gave him an odd look, and Linhardt’s arms around him tightened yet again. Caspar figured that meant ‘stop talking, idiot’. So he did.

Erik turned his gaze back towards their surroundings, leading them around a cluster of large rocks. “Well, I suppose you’re very lucky he was willing to follow you then.”

“Yeah.” The words escaped Caspar in a hoarse whisper. “I am.”

…

Linhardt ‘woke up’ soon after, with a long, almost performative yawn. He didn’t move from his place sitting behind Caspar, although he supposed with Erik on the horse that was usually Linhardt’s, he didn’t exactly have many options. 

“How long will this journey take, again?” he asked Erik, still pressed to Caspar’s back. Caspar could feel the vibrations of him speaking against his back, and he shivered.

“Ah, only about two days,” Erik responded with a smile. “For the first time I wish this forest were larger; that’s not nearly long enough for me to enjoy your company.”

“Hmn… Too bad. I’m growing sick of these woods already,” Linhardt replied with a flat expression.

“You’ve only been up for like an hour,” Caspar teased him, and although he couldn’t see Linhardt’s face behind him, he bet that he was scowling.

“Excuse me, not everyone has the energy reserves of a hyperactive puppy,” Linhardt said, huffing in feigned indignation. 

The rest of the afternoon passed much the same way, with the two of them bickering as normal and Erik interjecting at times. Once or twice one of their horses nearly stepped off solid ground and into a treacherous patch of bog, but Erik always caught it in time. They stopped for lunch, during which Linhardt took another nap, this time with his head in Caspar’s lap (which wouldn’t even be the first time he’d done that, but this time the implications made his face heat up). They rode for a few more hours, and then stopped to camp for the night. 

“I’ll grab some firewood!” Caspar said as he headed off into the trees. He puzzled over why that felt weird to say, and then realized that it was because getting firewood was his job. He always did it, and Linhardt always knew what he was going to do when he walked off at night. He’d never thought before about how many little shared routines like that they had. 

Then he remembered that the reason Erik was here at all was because the forest was super dangerous to someone who didn’t know it well, and spent the next ten minutes being extra super careful not to get sucked into a bog. He didn’t think he could count on Erik coming to save him, and Linhardt probably didn’t have the upper body strength to pull him out. 

In the end, despite tiptoeing around every patch of suspicious looking dirt, he was able to find plenty of fallen trees to chop into the right size logs. He piled them all up in his arms and hauled them back to the campground, where Erik had already cleared a large space and started to block it off with rocks to stop the fire spreading. Linhardt, meanwhile, had used up his remaining energy dropping the blanket from his pack onto the ground, and he now lay sprawled across it, eyes closed. 

Caspar unceremoniously dumped the pile of logs at the edge of the clearing and went to his side, kneeling next to the blanket. “Hey, you wanna lay that out properly? You’re gonna get leaves in your hair.”

The blanket itself was wrinkled and still half folded, so half of Linhardt’s resting form stuck out onto the bare ground. He knew Linhardt didn’t really mind, but it might be awkward trying to bathe with Erik around. 

Linhardt stirred slightly, then reached up to hook an arm around Caspar’s neck, pulling him down into a hug. Caspar froze. 

“You smell like pine needles,” he mumbled against his neck, and Caspar felt himself gulp.

“Uh, I probably smell like sweat, dude!” he told him with a nervous laugh, “I was just chopping wood!” Linhardt just pulled him down more, mumbling something that Caspar couldn’t understand. With effort, he disentangled himself from Linhardt’s arms, face bright red, and went to where he’d left his pack. He didn’t even need anything from here, but he felt like if he stayed in Linhardt’s arms a second longer he’d burst into flame. 

“I’m going to get a little more firewood,” he heard Erik say behind him, and when he turned to look Erik was disappearing into the trees. Oops. He wondered if the two of them had scared him away. I mean, that had kind of been the point, but… he still felt sort of bad.

He glanced over at Linhardt, who was sitting up now and also looking into the trees. “Alright, we have a few minutes, come over here.”

Oh. Caspar automatically crossed to Linhardt’s side and sat down on the blanket next to him. Linhardt turned to look at him. “I’m concerned he has suspicions about the two of us.”

“Ugh, I knew it. I really don’t know what I’m doing,” Caspar complained, puffing up his cheeks.

“Well, neither do I. I wish I’d observed more closely when our friends began to pair off near the end of the war.” Linhardt sighed.

“I mean… is it the end of the world if he isn’t totally sure we’re really dating?” Caspar asked. Like, he knew Erik was being annoying yesterday, but he didn’t seem violent or anything either. It would just be awkward if he found out they were lying, that’s all. 

“It would just be tiresome if he tried to propose, or something. And he kept touching me.” Linhardt folded his arms over his knees, looking a bit like he was pouting. Caspar couldn’t help but find it a little bit cute. “Personally, I--”

There was a crack of a twig from somewhere in the forest around them. Linhardt’s eyes widened, and his head whipped towards Caspar. “Forgive me,” he said, and Caspar was about to say ‘why’ when Linhardt dragged him close and kissed him.

Caspar was pretty sure he blacked out for a second. Sensations came back one by one; the feeling of Linhardt’s hand, strong and sure on the back of his neck. His own fingers clenched in the fabric of Linhardt’s sleeves. Twigs and pebbles pressing into his knees. Linhardt’s mouth, warm and soft against his. 

Linhardt tipped his head, and Caspar felt something nudge against his mouth-- was that Linhardt’s tongue? You could do that? Was that _allowed_?-- and before he could figure out what he wanted to do about that, Linhardt pulled away, leaving Caspar wide-eyed and breathing hard. He kind of vaguely heard Linhardt’s lazy greeting to Erik through a buzzing sort of fog as one of his hands came up to cover his mouth. 

This was so unfair. He’d get to kiss Linhardt, what. Maybe one more time, in front of Erik, if they really wanted to hammer it home? He wanted to do it way more times than that. He wanted to kiss him so much he wanted to go back in time and kiss him then too, to fill every moment and every day with kisses. They’d known each other for over fifteen years now; surely that was enough kisses to satisfy him-- but trying to do the math in his head, Caspar couldn’t be sure. Anyway, there was no way he was ever going to be allowed to repeat that kiss anywhere close to that many times. 

“Caspar?” he heard Linhardt say, and he blinked, glancing up at him, face warm. Linhardt’s cheeks were a little pink too, and he took slight comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one flustered by this. 

“Kiss me again?” he heard himself ask, which was not what he meant to say at all. Linhardt’s blush darkened and he turned his head sharply to the side.

“He gets like this sometimes when we’ve been in town for a few days,” he heard Linhardt say. Oh, that’s right, Erik. Oops. “It’s a natural consequence of having to hide our relationship for so long.”

He heard Erik say something like ‘Of course, no worries’, but his head was spinning. That meant no, right? Did it mean no forever or just no for right now-- because he could totally see the logic behind not kissing too much in front of Erik. They were trying to dissuade him, not ruin his day.

At some point Linhardt pushed a bowl of soup into his hands, and Erik must have made it because it was actually okay, and Linhardt sucked at cooking. The warm broth brought him back to a state of normalcy, and he was able to participate in the conversation. Which was good, because by the time he was paying more attention to the conversation he realized Linhardt was still being characteristically rude to Erik, answering his questions with one word answers and shrugs. He took over, even though Erik seemed less than pleased by that, which Caspar thought was unfair. Erik might not be in love with him, but people always thought he was funny, back in the army and in academy days! Erik just wasn’t giving him a chance. 

Caspar went to go rinse the bowls and grab one last load of firewood, and when he returned Linhardt was arranging a sort of pile of blankets. He’d taken the blanket from Caspar’s pack, Caspar realized. He wondered if that had been Linhardt’s end goal all along, acquiring more soft surfaces to sleep on. Knowing him, it wasn’t out of the question. 

Erik was setting up a bedroll on the other side of the fire, and his looked way less comfortable. Combining blankets really was the way to go. Caspar sat at the edge of their blankets and untied his boots and unbuckled his armor, piling them messily within arm’s reach. Then he flopped down on his back. Linhardt seemed to have been waiting for this; he stretched, and then lay back against Caspar’s shoulder, snuggling close.

The night before they’d shared a bed at the inn, but it had been fairly large and no one had been watching, so they’d just slept comfortably side by side. Now, Caspar figured, Linhardt was cuddling in case Erik happened to look over at them. 

Linhardt shifted until his lips were pressed against Caspar’s ear, and then, after a moment of hesitation murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Caspar asked.

“What?” Erik said, raising his voice slightly over the noise of the fire cracking. Linhardt pinched him.

“Ow! Nothing, sorry.” Caspar gave Erik a second to settle down again, and then whispered, “For what?”

Linhardt gave a gusty sigh, and Caspar shuddered as his breath ghosted against his ear. “The kiss was meant to be a last resort.” He sounded regretful. Caspar frowned.

“Nah, it’s okay,” he replied, as quietly as he could. “You can do it more. I mean. If you have to! For the, uh, plan.” Super convincing!

Linhardt snorted. “Alright, apology rescinded. Good night, Caspar.” And with that he kissed him on the cheek and lay down, head on Caspar’s shoulder, and went promptly to sleep. 

“G’night, Linhardt,” Caspar said, as normally as he could, and then felt bad, so he raised his voice and added, “Good night, Erik!” Linhardt didn’t even flinch. What a pro.

“...good night?” Erik replied, confused, but at least it eased his conscience.


	3. Chapter 3

Caspar drifted awake the next morning, woken by the rising sun and the cool air of morning against his cheeks. The rest of him was warmed by the blankets and by Linhardt, who had remained tangled around him all night somehow, as if he belonged there. Caspar rolled over on his side to face him, feeling Linhardt’s arms shift around his chest as he did so, somehow staying draped loosely around him. His friend’s face was squished against the rolled up blanket that functioned as a pillow, hair spread out across the ground. Caspar wormed an arm from the blankets so he could reach up to touch it, fingers brushing a few stray strands back from his face. 

Linhardt looked so peaceful right now. He always looked content when he was sleeping, but… well, Caspar didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because it was morning instead of an odd hour? Maybe it’s because he was still close to his face? Either way, Linhardt’s expression was soft and sweet, and… well, beautiful. Caspar gulped and brushed the backs of his knuckles against Linhardt’s soft cheek. Would Linhardt let him kiss him today? Maybe just to seal the deal and make sure Erik knew?

He hoped so. After all, this would be his last chance.

His hand moved to Linhardt’s chin, fingertips brushing his jaw and then thumb coming to press beneath his lower lip. His lips didn’t look THAT soft, but Caspar now knew they were, and now he’d never be able to stop thinking about it. If Linhardt let him kiss him, what would the angle for that be like? It was hard to gauge, since they were lying down-- Would he have to go on tiptoe to kiss him? Maybe if they’d done this a few years ago, when he was still so much shorter, but he thought they were close enough now that little adjustment would be needed. He pushed his thumb against Linhardt’s lower lip, just a little, and Linhardt’s lips parted as he breathed in slightly. Then Linhardt’s eyes fluttered open.

They stared at each other for a moment, Caspar frozen in utter horror before snapping back to reality and snatching his hand back, his face burning bright red.

“I, uh, y’see,” he stammered. Linhardt blinked at him slowly, his eyes still heavy lidded with sleep. 

“No, thank you,” he slurred, and then yawned. “Five more minutes.”

Caspar felt the tension leave his body, replaced by a deep aching fondness. Linhardt wasn’t even really awake. Thank the goddess. “Okay,” he said, “Go back to sleep.”

Linhardt gave him a soft smile that made Caspar’s heart clench, mumbled, “Mmmkay,” and closed his eyes again, snuggling closer to Caspar’s chest, inside of which his heart was thundering at about a million beats a second. After counting to a hundred (he lost count the first time and had to start over, so it was probably more like a hundred and fifty) he dared to touch Linhardt’s hair again, fingers threading into the soft strands. His body was buzzing with energy now, and a part of him wanted to spring to his feet and run around the campground, maybe climb a tree or two, anything to burn some of it off. Maybe Erik would fight him-- he knew Linhardt wouldn’t be up for it, but it’d been so long since he’d really had the chance to spar with someone properly. He was probably getting rusty! 

Still, something about Linhardt’s quiet breathing and gentle warmth made him want to stay where he was and not disturb him. Plus, that meant he got to play with his hair, so it felt like a win/win situation. For maybe the first time in his life, Caspar stayed still and forced himself to settle down, focusing on the soft strands of Linhardt's hair between his fingers.

…

After an hour or so, he heard Erik stir, and disentangled himself from Linhardt’s sleeping form. Linhardt whined and tried to cling to him like a child who’s favorite toy was being taken away, and Caspar tried not to think anything of it. It was just because Linhardt was half asleep and it was so cold outside. 

Together he and Erik packed the bags, and then he started to work on getting Linhardt onto the horse. Linhardt resisted him taking the blankets away, but he was able to get all but one stuffed into the bag, and let him wear the last one like a cape over his shoulders as he bundled him onto the horse. It was pretty chilly, after all. Maybe they should pick up some proper winter cloaks soon.

Erik was still being kind of a poor conversationalist. Caspar didn’t want to judge, but dang! Would it kill him to open up a little? It’s almost like he didn’t want to be friends.

Because of that, the day passed slowly, and by lunch Caspar was very ready for Linhardt to be properly awake already, even if only for someone else to talk to. When they stopped to eat, he helped Linhardt down from their horse and deposited him on a fallen log, where he sat blinking blearily with the blanket still around his shoulders. His hair was kind of a mess, and Caspar wondered guiltily how much of that was due to him playing with it that morning.

They ate a quick lunch, and Linhardt was already looking slightly more awake by the end of it. Well, as awake as Linhardt ever got. He was at least responding to questions, if slowly.

It was as they were finishing up their food that Erik cleared his throat, and they both glanced towards him. He folded and re-folded the cloth that had previously held the loaf of bread they’d eaten, and then stood to tuck it away in a saddlebag. “I wondered if I might have a word with you, Linhardt,” he said, gesturing towards the trees around them.

Linhardt shrugged. “You can have as many words as you like, as long as I can stay on this log,” he said, remaining stubbornly seated as he picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.

Erik frowned and turned to Caspar. “Then, maybe if you could…” He paused, as if waiting for Caspar to fill in the rest.

“What?” 

Erik made a shooing motion with his hand. 

“Umm, no way? Aren’t you the one who said the forest’s super dangerous? Also, what if something attacked you guys without me? I haven’t seen you fight at all, so I have no idea if you're any good. Who’s gonna protect Linhardt and the horses and stuff, huh?”

Erik’s expression seemed to be darkening with every word, until Linhardt spoke up again from his perch on the log. “Caspar’s liable to get lost if you send him off like that,” he said airily, “So he might as well stay here. I don’t have many secrets from him anyway.”

Caspar noticed he didn’t say that he didn't have _any_ secrets, and frowned, but they could talk about that later.

“...Alright,” Erik said after a moment, although he seemed unhappy about it, Caspar thought. “I will be clear, then. It appears to me that you cannot be happy with this arrangement.”

“What?” Caspar said loudly, and earned a glare from Erik, who evidently wanted to make it very obvious that he was only talking to Linhardt right now. Linhardt, for his part, only made a noncommittal noise and raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for further explanation. Fortunately, there was one coming.

“You may have run off with this… man, as your only option to escape a dire situation, but surely things can’t continue like this.”

“Hey,” Caspar said with mild indignation, mostly because he suspected that Erik meant something unkind by the way he said ‘man’, although he didn’t know exactly what.

“It’s obvious that this kind of life isn’t what you want. If you come back to town with me, I can provide for you-- you’ll never have to spend another day sleeping on the ground, or travelling all day, or using your healing abilities just to make some quick money. Doesn’t that sound much more appealing?”

Linhardt was silent, looking at the ground. Caspar gaped. Surely he couldn’t actually be considering it! He knew how important Linhardt’s rest was to him, but like, he barely knew this guy! They weren’t even totally sure he wasn’t a psychopath! Maybe if Linhardt did decide to go back with him, Caspar could go too, just to make sure he was safe--

His thoughts were interrupted by Linhardt giving a long, tired sigh. “Maybe I should have let you speak to me in private after all,” he said. “I suppose this is my just desserts for complaining all the time. No, Erik, I don’t want to go back with you. I am traveling with Caspar, despite the discomforts, because I love him, and I enjoy his company. I can’t say either of the same for you.”

Caspar gasped. He felt sure he must be glowing. He remembered Linhardt saying to him, a few days ago in the inn, that it was easier to lie when some of the lie was true-- so surely Linhardt must truly enjoy traveling with him. Maybe he even enjoyed his company for real! He could feel himself grinning from ear to ear.

Erik on the other hand didn’t look nearly as happy. His forehead was furrowed, and he glanced from Linhardt to Caspar and back again. “B-but, I can take care of you,” he spluttered, and it was Caspar that cut in this time, beaming.

“No need! I take care of him just fine, and he takes care of me.” He shot Linhardt a wide smile, and was rewarded with a small one in return. They’d known each other for so long now, it would take ages for anyone to even try to catch up. He didn’t think Erik had the energy for that.

“That’s really the long and short of it,” Linhardt said, turning back to Erik. “Really, what you can do for us now is to finish leading us out of the forest-- and to keep any other foolish proposals to yourself.”

Erik’s face was turning a bit red, and Caspar was a little concerned for a moment, but then he turned on his heel and stalked away, towards where the horses were tied. Well. That must mean their lunch break was over. Caspar helped Linhardt up onto the horse, although he seemed to be fully awake now, and then joined him.

The three traveled in silence for the last two hours of the journey. Once Caspar tried to speak, maybe to smooth things over a bit, but Erik ignored him and Linhardt pinched him, so he gave up after that. 

There was a brief period of time where Caspar began to worry that Erik had purposefully led them off track and was going to try to abandon them in the woods-- but surely that’d be fine, he’d just fight him and then make him show them the right way, and they’d all be okay. But just as he was thinking it would really come to that, the trees ahead of them parted and they found themselves by the side of a dirt road, the buildings of the town on the horizon ahead of them.

“Well. I believe you can make your way from here,” Erik said shortly, climbing down off the horse and holding out the reins. 

“Yes, well, thank you for your help,” Linhardt replied, and Caspar detected a bit of sarcasm there, potentially, and tried to smooth it over by also thanking Erik enthusiastically (although from his face he feared he might have made things worse).

And then Erik turned and walked into the trees and left the two of them alone. 

“Are you gonna get on your own horse?” Caspar asked curiously. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the closeness of these past few days, due to sharing a horse. That and the whole pretending-to-be-dating thing. Oh, that ended now, huh. Damn, and he’d never gotten a second kiss.

“Hmm… not yet,” Linhardt said. “We’re almost to town, so it’d be a waste-- all that climbing down and climbing back up… exhausting.” He looped his arms around Caspar’s waist again, and Caspar fought to keep his heart rate normal.

It wasn’t yet night time when they reached the town, but Linhardt insisted they head to the inn anyway, for a post lunch nap or whatever. Lunch had been hours ago, but Caspar didn’t feel like arguing, and that’s how they found themselves at the counter of the closest inn at three in the afternoon. 

“One or two beds?” the woman at the counter asked them, after confirming they’d like just one room, and Caspar hesitated. He glanced at Linhardt out of the corner of his eye, but he was looking away.

“Two’s fine, I guess,” he said, trying not to show his reluctance in his voice. It had just been so comfortable, sharing with Linhardt the past couple of days.

He thought he heard Linhardt make a noise, but when he glanced in his direction, he still seemed to be looking away. Maybe he was just tired? That was always a safe bet with Linhardt.

He carried their bags up to their room and dropped them on one of the beds, and Linhardt immediately collapsed onto the other, throwing a forearm over his eyes as if blocking out the light. Caspar wondered if he should close the curtains, but Linhardt always seemed to be able to sleep just about anywhere, so he didn’t know if there was much of a point.

“Glad to see the back of that guy, huh,” Caspar said after a second, going to sit on the edge of the bed. His bed. The other bed, not the one Linhardt currently was occupying, which was a different one from the one Caspar would be sleeping in. He was still wrapping his head around that. Linhardt was only maybe three feet away from him, but it felt like that distance was miles, like when they were kids and one of their families would leave the capital for a few weeks to head back their territory, and the other would have to wait for them to return. Caspar remembered his fretful longing from back then-- he felt it wasn’t dissimilar to what he was feeling now.

“I suppose,” Linhardt said. He didn’t move. Maybe he really was trying to sleep.

“It kind of seems like the pretending to date thing didn’t really work,” Caspar replied. “I mean, he still basically proposed to you.” 

Linhardt snorted. “Whether it was altogether a waste of effort remains to be seen.” His words were languid, but Caspar sensed an odd sort of anxious energy coming from him. He hesitated, and then leaned towards him.

“What do you mean?”

Linhardt was still for a long time. Caspar wondered if he’d fallen asleep for real, which wouldn’t be the first time he’d done so in the middle of a conversation. But still. There was that odd tension permeating the room.

“Well, I thought it would be convenient. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.” There was another pause, and Caspar tried to muddle through Linhardt’s words. What on earth was he saying? 

“Linhardt--”

“I thought for sure a situation like that would prompt you to confess your feelings,” Linhardt lamented, and Caspar suddenly forgot how to breathe.

What feelings?

The feelings that made cuddling with Linhardt the most comfortable thing in the world? The feelings that made him restless and irritable while another flirted with him? The feelings that kept bubbling up in his chest when he thought back to their kiss?

Oh. _Those_ feelings.

“And yet here I am doing all the work,” Linhardt continued sullenly, as Caspar shot to his feet and crossed the space between them. He dropped down onto the edge of Linhardt’s bed, and Linhardt, surprised by the sudden weight, lowered the arm over his face. His cheeks were stained pink, and Caspar felt his heart stutter at the sight.

“Linhardt,” he said, with utmost seriousness, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Linhardt stared at him, and then snorted. “Obviously, you’re in love with me. You’ve been in love with me since we were thirteen.”

Caspar made a strangled noise. “I didn’t know! Shut up!” Although in retrospect, it seemed obvious, he had to admit.

“I will not,” Linhardt replied, laughing, but the tension seemed to be falling away somehow. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Caspar replied, “I can’t believe you made me fake date you because you wanted to real date me!” A horrible thought struck him. Linhardt had said a lot about Caspar’s feelings, but not yet a ton about his own. “You do want to real date me, right?” he asked suspiciously, leaning closer, and Linhardt only laughed harder.

“Yes, don’t be stupid,” he told him, and Caspar sighed in relief. That was alright then.

“Does that mean you’ll kiss me again?” Caspar asked. He might be pushing his luck, but he had to know. 

“Well…” Linhardt hesitated, and Caspar's heart dropped a bit. “In truth, I was hoping you would kiss me next.”

“I can do that,” Caspar told him excitedly, and Linhardt opened his arms as if to say well, go on then, so he did.

…

Later, Caspar found the willpower to unseal his lips from Linhardt long enough to ask him, “So how come you didn’t just confess to me ages ago? Why’d you do all that stuff instead?”

Linhardt sighed, pausing in the process of exploring Caspar’s scalp with his fingertips, rubbing and scratching at the short cropped sides of his hair. The pressure felt good, and Caspar almost wanted to prompt him to continue, but this was pretty important too. “I thought surely you’d catch on and say something. I didn’t account for you being quite so _dense_.”

Caspar thought he should be insulted by that, but it was hard to be mad right now. Instead he laughed and shoved his face into the warm curve of Linhardt’s neck, nuzzling into the smooth skin there. “You’re the dumb one! You coulda just said something, and then we wouldn’t have wasted all this time.”

Linhardt harrumphed and didn’t respond, twisting his fingers in the longer parts of Caspar’s hair. Oof. That felt good too, and Caspar hummed in approval. In fact, it felt so good that he decided he was willing to forgive Linhardt for dragging this on for who knows how long. There’d be time for revenge tomorrow, or the next day on the road. As far as he could tell, they had all the time in the world now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter! thanks for reading to the end. Just a heads up, but I've started classes so I'll probably be a bit slower with posting things than before. Thanks in advance for your patience.

**Author's Note:**

> St. Cethleann effect is a joke on Florence Nightingale effect, of course.  
I've planned for this to be three chapters but it could end up being more. Stay tuned for more tortured fake dating goodness in the following chapters! Edited to add: thanks to the curiouscat anon who asked for fake dating and gave me the idea!


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